Bad Idea
by InsaneAndHappyAboutIt
Summary: Sequel to Bad Influence. READ THAT ONE FIRST! Jack finds the note from Pitch and events leads to them meeting again. Needless to say they don't get much sleep that night... Warning: MATURE SEXUAL CONTENTS!, M/M, Underage (Jack is 17), Seriously read Bad Influence or some references won't make sense. ENJOY! XD


**Warning: MATURE SEXUAL CONTENTS!, M/M, Underage (Jack is four months from being 18), Slight Bad Language **

**This is a sequel to Bad Influence! READ THAT ONE FIRST! Or some of this won't make sense... I hope you enjoy it and please leave a review if u can. (Also, Jack's younger sister in indeed Elsa from Frozen though I didn't tag this story as a crossover since she had a very brief appearance. I just think they would make a really good brother and sister...XD) ENJOY!**

**Also, I do NOT own Raise of the Guardians or Frozen or any of the characters! **

_**Bad**_** Idea**

Jack pushed the door of his room open slowly, careful not to wake up his sister. As soon as the crack was wide enough he was assaulted by a lively, fully awake girl. She wrapped her small fingers around his legs and clung to him like he was her only lifeline. Jack immediately knelt down and wrapped his arms around his sister, her hands meeting around his neck and her head burring into his chest.

'Easy little snowflake. Did something happen while I was gone?' He kept his voice level and soothing but a silent anger burned inside him at the thought of someone coming near his sister with malevolent intent. The other orphans knew to leave her alone or they had him to deal with and while he preferred keeping out of fights he was a crazed animal when it came to defending his family. They could pick on him all they wanted but she was off limits.

'No.' The little girl shook her head vigorously and Jack gently pried her away so he could see her eyes. 'I was just worried since you were gone for so long. I couldn't sleep...' Jack's eyes softened. He got to his feet and led her to her bed, tucking her in.

'Another nightmare?' She nodded, her lower lip quivering and Jack brushed her hair from her face. He knew the action calmed her down and he didn't want to hear her sob. It broke his heart...

'It's alright now Elsa. Big brother's here to look over you while you sleep.' She looked at him with wide blue eyes, so like his, and smiled her relief. Jack knew she dreamt of their parents and the winter they died. She'd been young then, barely three years old, and he'd thought she would be spared the memory but he later found out that was but wishful thinking. Winters were especially hard for her. While they both loved the snow and the cold, night brought back nightmares they both wished to forget. He'd learned to deal with them, to push the emotions down, but she was still too young for that.

'Where were you until now? Did you have a job?' Elsa didn't know the detail of what Jack did and, if he could help it, he hoped that would continue for the rest of their lives. He wasn't exactly proud of it but money was money and if he ever wanted to free them from the orphanage, or rather hell as he called it to himself, he need to save up. He had four months before he was officially recognized as an adult and he knew he had nowhere near enough money to sustain the both of them on his own. But this was not the time to think such bleak thoughts... He had to comfort Elsa and for that he had to look like everything was fine.

'No. I was... kept overtime at school.' Jack felt his ears burn as the memory of the English class rushed back to him. He heard Mr Black whisper his name into his ear and he swallowed audibly, a stray shiver crawling down his spine like a last electric jolt.

'Did you get into trouble again?...' Elsa arched an eyebrow at him and he grinned with one corner of his mouth.

'What do you mean _again_? You know what, don't answer that.' He supposed he did get into trouble since he had been the one to throw the snowball... Elsa giggled as Jack pulled the covers all the way to her chin.

'Do you have work tomorrow?' Jack glanced at her, noting the look in her eyes. He was gone most of the week and weekends were really the only time they got to spend together. He could read her thoughts perfectly because he was thinking the same thing.

'Not tomorrow. Tomorrow we're going to the park and we'll go ice skating.' Her grin widened, stretching from ear to ear, and Jack wondered if she'll sleep at all now.

'Really? Can we build a snowman?'

'Of course! It won't be a proper day in the park without a snowman.' She looked ready to get up and race out into the cold night that very instant and Jack decided it was time to call it a night. It was late. One glance at the old clock and he realized it was one in the morning. He frowned but he knew that clock worked perfectly fine. 'But none of that will happen if you're too tired tomorrow to keep up. Get some sleep snowflake.' Elsa was ready to argue but one look at her brother and she realized it would do no good. When Jack made up his mind about something then it would take a heavenly force to change his mind... She sighed, defeated, and nodded her consent.

'Good night Jack.' She burrowed under the covers, letting them cover her face almost all the way, only a tuft of hair still visible. Jack rolled his eyes but smiled to himself.

'Good night Elsa.'

He silently stepped away from her bed and walked to the tiny bathroom across the hall. It was late and everyone was supposed to be asleep. If the adults caught him they would give him a scolding and possibly deprive him of a few meals for breaking the rules. He didn't care so much but sometimes they also punished Elsa because they knew he would care about that. He was careful to check the coast was clear before traversing the corridor, closing the bathroom door carefully behind him.

Once inside he took a deep, steading breath. The room was cool since the administrators didn't see the point of wasting money on heating the bathrooms, or corridors, or bedroom during the day, or any other part of the building. They stole as much money as they could lay their dirty hands on and if a few children developed pneumonia, too bad. They used them to score sympathy points and get even more money which went right into their bottomless pockets.

Feeling his anger rise, Jack splashed some water on his face. It ran down his skin in rivets and he relished the numbing cold. It always calmed him down. However, as soon as his mind emptied the events of a few hours ago came back and Jack felt his skin burn despite the chill. He remembered every second of it and his body yearned for Mr Black's touch. Unfortunately when he woke up the class was empty. He was dressed and he was spread on the desk like a sacrificial lamb but the room was devoid of life. One hasty look at the window told him it was dark already and he hastily rushed out, his thoughts plagued by guilt for leaving Elsa alone for a whole day. He had been too busy trying to reach his sister as soon as possible to think about Pitch Black but now, alone in the bathroom, all the thoughts he'd forced down resurfaced with a vengeance.

His mouth was dry and he gulped some of the tap water, letting it trickle down his burning throat. He began removing his hoodie, the cloth too rough on his skin all of a sudden. In the absolute stillness of the night he heard the flutter of the folded piece of paper as loudly as if it had been the chime of a church bell. He glanced at the marred tiles by his left foot, realizing the note must have been stuffed inside his hoodie pocket. His eyebrows knitted quizzically. He picked it up but didn't open it right away. He studied it but the outside yielded no new answers. It seemed to be nothing more than a piece of white paper, folded neatly. Shrugging he unfolded it, his eyes widening as he read the message.

_66, Fearling Street, Lowertown. -Pitch Black _

At first the words didn't make sense to him. The only thing his eyes recognized was the name, Pitch Black, and his heart beat at an alarming speed. Then he reread the whole note again and understood it was an address. It was Mr Black's address! Jack stared at it like it held magical properties, disbelief clear across every inch of his face. The English professor must have slipped it inside his pocket while he was asleep...

Jack looked up, meeting the eyes of his reflection in the dirty mirror. A crimson blush coloured his pale cheeks and a shy smile stretched his lips. He folded the piece of paper carefully and held it to his chest securely.

* * *

><p>'That's perfect Jack! Now turn this way! One more... Great!'<p>

Jack turned on his back, his legs falling just open enough to hint at an invitation. His lips were seductively parted in a half smile and his eyes were half-lidded while his arms crossed behind his head. He looked desirable and in control. The photographer moved around the bed, snapping pictures of the young model, continuously barking compliments and the occasional direction.

'Now let's try one where we can see your back. Look in the camera and give me a _fuck-me_ look.' Jack resisted the urge to grimace. It wasn't the photo shoot he hated, or even being featured in a gay men's magazine but the way the man holding the camera eyed him was sending all his alarm bells ringing. He was used to his bosses looking at him as if he was a piece of meat but that didn't mean he hated it any less. He had to remind himself of why he was doing this, to get a better life for Elsa, before he followed the instructions. He was only dressed in a tight pair of black jeans, the fly opened at the front and the material hanging far enough down his hips to show a small portion of his ass. It was a tease, nothing more. Jack arched his back, looking over his shoulder into the camera.

'No, no, no! You need to look sexier! Look at me like you're trying to get me to fuck you without saying a single word.' That was something impossible for Jack since the man filled him with revulsion. As if the greasy hair wasn't enough, there was an air of unkemptness about him and Jack couldn't stand that. He hated facial hair, always had. Pitch was shaved smooth... His pupils immediately dilated as thoughts of his teacher entered his mind. 'That's it! Keep that up!'

Jack entertained a fantasy of Pitch coming across the next issue of the men's magazine and seeing his photos in it. He imagined Mr Black's stunned reaction and then a wicked grin accompany an equally wicked golden spark in the intense eyes. Jack bit his lower lip and curled his toes as he pictured Pitch take the magazine with him to bed and look at him while he opened his pants. He imagined the long fingers push inside the material of the opened trousers and begin touching himself, all the while the golden eyes fixed on the sensual pictures of Jack.

'And that's a wrap! Great work Jack.' Jack snapped out of his fantasy, blinking into the studio light for a handful of seconds before he realized where he was. He hastily sat up on his knees, his cheeks colouring slightly when he realized he was hard. Worst of all, there was no separate changing room in the studio. He had to undress while being watched by the photographer and he didn't hide his grimace this time. He had to remind himself for the umpteenth time to pretend, to play nice, until he had the money in his hand. It would be a shame to pose for the guy for hours just to be swindled out of his pay now... It had happened before and it wasn't like he could go to the cops. Posing as a model for an adult magazine was illegal for someone his age after all...

'Thanks.' Jack moved his fingers to the front of the jeans, ready to push the material down when he was stopped, the older man's hand falling over his. He hadn't even noticed him approach! Jack suffered a second of pure panic where he froze, unsure of what to do.

'Keep them. They look good on you.' The man removed his hand and Jack released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Maybe the guy wasn't such a creep...

'Are you sure?' Jack was already zipping them up but good etiquettes demanded he asked. Besides, he didn't want to be accused of stealing later.

'Consider it a gift from me.' Jack froze again when the other's hand moved across his face, the fingers softly caressing his skin. He deliberately looked away from the other, letting him silently know he wasn't interested. He hoped it would be enough because he really couldn't afford to lose this money... He was entirely at the photographer's mercy, and they both knew it.

'Can I have my money please?' Jack hated the quiver in his voice but he couldn't help it. He knew showing weakness would only encourage a potential attacker to strike but his vocal cords shook with fear at the possibility. If he was lucky, all the man would ask of him would be a blowjob. If he was lucky...

'Sure. I'll go get it while you get dressed.' Jack's eyes widened and he turned to face the older man but he was already leaving to look for the cash. He couldn't believe his luck and decided to get on his knees and thank his stars later. He practically leapt from the bed, hastily pulling a thin white shirt over his head and his always present blue hoodie over that. He felt a thousand times better with the extra layers between himself and the outside world. The guy, Jack realized he didn't know his name, returned a moment later, his fingers counting a bunch of notes. Satisfied he handed the money over to Jack who hesitantly reached for it. He found it hard to believe the man, who had clearly been interested in him, would just let him go like that. His fear was confirmed a second later when he tried to take the money but the other didn't let go.

'You were great today Jack. I'd like to have you in a few other shoots, if you're interested?' Jack judged the man's expression and decided it was too unpredictable to safely refuse. When the time came he could always not show up... He doubted he'd get off so easily a second time alone with the guy.

'Sounds great. Give me a call when you need me.' The stranger flashed him a wide grin, a shark's grin showing both rows of teeth, and Jack managed a weak smile of his own. Finally the money was released into his care and he quickly counted it, force of habit, before pocketing it.

'Excellent. Be careful out there. It's already dark.' Jack was nearly out the door before the man finished speaking. The shoot started at seven pm so he knew damn well it was dark. It was probably well past midnight. Elsa would be asleep by now, still tired from yesterday's time in the park. The pleasant remembrance did wonders for his mood.

'I'm not afraid of the dark.'

* * *

><p>Jack wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. His gaze was firmly planted to the ground, vaguely aware he was following the path. Which path? He had no idea and he wasn't sure where it was leading him. He didn't want to go back to the orphanage that night. He'd already told Elsa not to wait for him and he knew she understood him well enough to know when he wanted to be alone. He would walk around the city all night long if he had to and catch some sleep in one of the classes the next day. He'd done it before and it was better than spending a restless night in that prison... He hated everything about the place.<p>

To divert his thoughts, he rolled up a fistful of snow and moulded it into a perfectly rounded ball. A small smile grew on his tired face. He continued to throw the snowball up in the air and catch it as he walked down the lonely street. The one thing he didn't like about winter was that it ended far too soon. It wasn't like he didn't like the other seasons but winter had a special place in his heart, despite the painful memory always triggered by the sight of fresh snow. It was a bitter-sweet combination but it was part of who Jack was and he liked it.

'Well, well, well. Didn't expect to see you around here.' Jack's body turned to stone and he dropped the snowball. It crumbled into slush on impact while he managed to turn his head towards the familiar voice. 'Lost Frost?' Jack felt like kicking his own ass for not taking better note of his surroundings. He was in a bad neighbourhood and he wasn't sure when he'd made the mistake of entering it. He'd been walking for hours, since leaving the studio, and he'd lost himself inside his thoughts more and more. Not smart...Not smart at all!

'Nope. Just stretching my legs.' He briefly considered making a run for it but, as if reading his thoughts, the gang of young men surrounded him, effectively blocking any chance of a quick escape. The speaker was obviously the leader of the group. Jack counted nine guys. Even if he hadn't recognized the voice it would have been impossible to forget the guy's tattooed arms and neck and his pierced bottom lip. Tucker looked at him with a cruel smirk on his lips and Jack felt afraid, very afraid.

'Opening them up for other men didn't do the trick?' Tucker feigned a look of innocent curiosity and Jack felt his cheeks colour, both with embarrassment and with rage. 'You and I still have a score to settle Frost, or did you hope I'd forget?' Jack had actually. He should have known better... Someone who obviously had nothing better to do with their lives than skulk around deserted streets at night would have plenty of space in their head to bear a grudge.

'It was a snowball Tucker. Just let it go already.' Jack rolled his eyes, feeling exasperated despite the fear. The man was in front of him before he had a chance to back away.

'It was a challenge and I'm not the type to let that sort of thing go.' Jack attempted to take a step back but two other guys were already at his sides, sentinels to hold him from doing something stupid. Jack noticed from the corner of his eye a small gap which opened when one of the two broke away from the circle. His mind began to spin, quickly putting together a scheme which would win his freedom.

'Maybe it was meant to attract your attention. Maybe it wasn't a challenge for a fight, not the usual kind anyway...' Jack remembered how Tucker had eyed him while Pitch was dealing out his _punishment_ in the English class. He looked coyly at the taken aback older boy, letting his voice drip with just enough seduction to make his intended meaning perfectly clear.

'I always knew you were a whore.' Tucker ran his lusty eyes down Jack's body, taking in the tight black jeans with a slight raise of an eyebrow. Jack knew he had the other hooked the moment he saw the pupils dilate and he reminded himself to play this perfectly or he was in more trouble than a beating. He could feel the other eight pairs of eyes on him and he suppressed the urge to gulp audibly.

'Then you know I have experience. You've seen me in action once. Don't pretend you don't want to sample the goods for yourself.' Tucker grinned and pushed Jack's hoodie down one shoulder, hooking a finger into the opening of his shirt. He pulled it enough to show Jack's collarbone and some of the skin of his upper chest. Jack ran his tongue over his lips, attracting the other's gaze to them, all the time thinking of the gap in the circle. The two guys at his side gave him more space, certain he wasn't thinking of running away anymore. He heard some snickering from the other unknown thugs, no doubt thinking they were next to _sample the goods_.

'I still want to mess you up but I don't see why I shouldn't take you up on your offer, seeing as you're so eager and all.' The blond reached out and grasped Jack's waist, pulling him up against him with one powerful motion. Jack gasped, feeling the power in the muscular arms and realizing he was not going to get off with all bones intact should Tucker wise up to his plan. He felt the other's erection push against him and his heart beat faster. With difficulty he forced himself to put on an act. All he needed was one second and he would be gone, he would disappear like the night wind.

'I'm eager only for you.' Jack ran his fingers along Tucker's arm, feeling the powerful muscles under the sleeveless t-shirt. Honestly, he couldn't understand how the guy dodged frost bite! He was naturally good at dealing with the cold, was wearing twice the amount of clothes the blond was and he was still numb with cold...

'I don't know Frost. You looked pretty eager for the teacher. Was he a good fuck?' Jack felt a surge of anger rush through him. He didn't know why he felt like he should defend Pitch but he did. He silenced his tongue which threatened to ruin everything by pressing his lips to Tucker's, letting the blond take immediate control of the action and ravage his mouth. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to stop from pushing the invading tongue out of his mouth. Jack felt Tucker's hands hold him tighter and he rubbed his waist against his to mollify him. The hold relaxed and Jack waited for a second more, until Tucker was fully absorbed into the passionate kiss, before he brought his knee up with all his strength and hit the older student in the area god intended to be treated only nicely.

Tucker pulled away instantly, his cry of pain filling the night sky like the howl of a wolf. Jack didn't stick around to see what the others would do. He was dashing past the stupefied circle in a flash, his sneakers sending a spray of snowflakes behind him. He was rounding a corner when he heard Tucker's livid voice barking orders at his posy to give chase. Fortunately this was his forte. He was confident they weren't going to catch him and his long legs all but flew across the paved ground. He easily jumped over a metal fence by hoping onto a rubbish can and was out of sight. A few meters later he was out of earshot as well. He knew they'd keep looking for him for hours to come, if not for the whole night, and he realized with a sinking heart that his plan of walking the streets in peace was shot. He also couldn't go back to the orphanage without intercepting them or crossing even worse neighbourhoods. Worse still, he couldn't run the whole night! He was fast but he was still only human... He was going to tire out eventually and then they'd catch him. He shuddered at the things Tucker was going to do to him if he ever got his hands on him again. He was going to need a miracle to make peace with the blond now but he decided to figure that part out once he was safe for the night.

He needed to find a place to spend the night and fast.

* * *

><p>Pitch closed the book, the sound of the slammed pages echoing in the eerily silent house. He couldn't concentrate on his reading, a rare occurrence and one he despised. It only ever happened when there was something incredibly annoying nagging at his thoughts and no matter how hard he'd try to distance himself from the oppressing thoughts he couldn't. How was he supposed to enjoy Tolstoy when his head was full of Jackson Overland Frost?! He threw the copy of Anna Karenina away in his anger. Realizing he'd broken one of his most cardinal rules, that of never taking his anger on a book, he went to pick it back up, inspecting the pages for any tears. Fortunately there were none and he closed the book, gently this time, and placed it on the nearby mahogany table.<p>

Without thinking he looked in the direction of the front door, as if expecting for Jack to be outside it that very instant. He'd been doing that all day and the day before. He couldn't believe he was acting so ridiculously and a new wave of anger, directed at himself, washed over him. He'd always been interested in Jack, recognizing himself in the young man, but he'd managed to keep it in check. After his stupid decision to _punish_ Jack on Friday that became impossible. He couldn't lie to himself, he wanted to hold the other in his hands again. He wanted to do all sort of naughty things to him...

Feeling about ready to tear out his hair in frustration, Pitch walked to the kitchen. A stiff drink was going to help, or at least make him forget about Jack for a while. Like any true writer he was quite found of drink, perhaps too fond sometimes. Another reason why he pushed others away but there was nobody left in his life to push. He grasped the neck of the cognac bottle from the shelf above the oven filled with other alcoholic choices. None were full and Pitch suspected a few at the back were empty but he hadn't gotten around to clearing them out yet. He poured himself a good two fingers in a clean glass and downed that immediately, only to refill the glass. This time he drank slower, even adding three cubes of ice to the mix. He relished the burn running down his throat and he closed his eyes, remembering the events on Friday without fear of it cutting him as sharply as without the protection of numbing drink.

He ran a hand through his sleek hair, pulling it back in his usual choice of hairstyle. He'd really hoped Jack would pay him a visit... Pitch scoffed at his own stupidity. It wasn't like him to lose his head over another so easily, worse...his heart. He guarded himself to the point where he pushed those who cared about him away rather than risk getting hurt and here he was, opening up to barely an adult who showed no sign of seeing him in any positive light whatsoever. As much as he wanted to be seen, Pitch realized being transparent was sometimes a blessing.

*knock*, *knock*, *knock*

Pitch frowned at the new sound, his expression darkening into his usual scowl. It was probably his moronic neighbour. He was in no mood for company and if he so much as saw that man he would reach for the nearest sharpest object, so help him! He decided to ignore the knocking and took another gulp of the expensive cognac instead.

*Knock*, *Knock*, *Knock*

This time it was more insistent and Pitch gritted his teeth. He didn't care if the man had accidentally set one of his ridiculously colourful sweaters on fire and was being devoured by the flames, he wasn't opening that door. Actually, that scenario would literally be a dream come true...

'Pit- Mr Black? Please open the door if you're there...' By the time the sound reached Pitch, all the way in the kitchen, it was barely a whisper. The words themselves were too muffled to make any sense but he understood this was not the obnoxious voice of his neighbour. He didn't immediately think of Jack, at least he didn't allow himself to jump to that wistful conclusion, but he was intrigued enough to leave his post and walk towards the door.

'Please open the door...' Pitch was closer now and he knew it was the voice of a man, a young man. A new round of soft knocking seemed to keep pace with his hesitant steps. Finally he had his hand on the door knob. The knocking stopped and Pitch understood, somehow, that if he didn't open the door right that instant the person on the other hand would be gone, lost to him forever. He threw the black length of wood ajar.

'Jack Frost?' The boy in question glanced back at him, his eyes red and wet with freshly spilled tears. His back was already turned to the door and he was in the street, ready to make a run for it. Pitch could hear someone shout in the distance and it didn't sound like a cry of joy. Jack glanced in the direction, a look of pure panic on his face, and Pitch quickly put two and two together. 'Get in before they see you.' Jack didn't need a second invitation. He ran past the taller man, who closed the door silently behind him, and stopped in the middle of the room. He turned to look at Pitch slowly and the other studied the state of the young man. 'Do I want to know?' One corner of Jack's lips lifted into a half-smile.

'Not really, no. It's nothing that hasn't happened a thousand times, though usually the bad guys win in those sorts of situations.' Pitch stepped towards Jack and brushed his thumb across the wet cheek, wiping away the fresh tears.

'Who's to say I'm not just as bad?' His eyes met Jack's and he saw a flash if panic. He removed his hand, understanding the other needed some time to regain his composure. He still couldn't believe Jack was really in his house... Perhaps he was passed out with a bottle of empty cognac rolling beside him and this was all an alcohol induced dream. 'You look cold.'

'I'm not.' Jack was freezing.

'You're shivering. Go take a shower, upstairs and first to your right, and I'll bring you a change of clothes while these dry.' Pitch eyed Jack's wet clothes, his eyes lingering just a little too long on the tight jeans. He would have loved to pry the material away from Jack's skin with his own hands... 'Are you hungry?' Jack opened his mouth to answer when his stomach rumbled instead. He immediately wrapped his arms around it and blushed furiously. Pitch chuckled, not at Jack's discomfort but his frankly adorable reaction. 'You go warm up while I'll make us some dinner. I'm hungry myself.' Only he was hungry for something other than food... He really shouldn't have been drinking...

Jack was dumbfounded. He'd hoped Pitch would let him spend the night, perhaps even do something more, but he certainly hadn't expected this level of attentiveness. He opened his mouth to thank the older man for his kindness but no words came out. Instead his stomach growled again and Jack gritted his teeth in irritation. This was not the sort of impression he wanted to make!

'Hurry up before you pass out from hunger.' Pitch all but pushed Jack in the direction of the stairs and the boy shrugged. As a guest it would be rude to refuse anything Pitch told him to do...

'Thanks.' It was said easily, a word casually thrown over his shoulder but Pitch knew better. He shook his head as he watched Jack run up the stairs, taking them two at a time and heard the bathroom door bang shut a moment later. Now he had to find some clothes which would actually fit the smaller body. ..

* * *

><p>Jack sighed contently as the hot water ran down his numbed lean figure. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had the luxury of taking a hot shower, not the lukewarm excuse of a shower at the orphanage, and he wished he could stay under the torrent of water for the rest of his life. His white hair clung to his skull, weighed down by its drink and his fingers flexed as the icy prickle of the cold winter air warmed up. He hadn't planned on coming to Pitch that night. Perhaps he wasn't going to ever come to the professor's house for fear the man was like almost all the other adults in his life. Jack feared he would have his fun with him and then forget about him. That was the way of the world after all and he was just unfortunate enough to learn it too early. The strong took from the weak. It was just how things were.<p>

But without another option and with a gang of thugs bent on pulverising him, Jack found his legs leading him straight to Lowertown. Despite its misleading name, this side of the city was the better off one. One look at the sort of palace Pitch occupied and it was clear nobody without a rich background could even afford to be homeless in this place. Jack remembered the way he'd stared at the black door with its gold knocker, designed to resemble a horse's head. He would have probably walked away, painfully aware of his old faded hoodie, but then he'd heard the shouts for his blood and he'd taken his heart between his teeth. Frankly he'd rather be used by Pitch all night long and have his miserable little heart broken but survive to see another sunrise than fall prey to Tucker and his gang of rabid dogs.

The door opened slowly and Pitch walked in, a neat pile of clothes in his arms. Jack looked at him and Pitch looked back, their eyes mirroring each other's lust. Jack felt his breath come in faster when Pitch followed the descend of the water along his naked body. They stood like that for a full minute, neither willing to break the silence or shatter the intimacy of the moment by moving. Finally it was Pitch who moved to place the dry clothes on the toilet seat.

'I'll wait for you in the kitchen. Take your time.' Jack nodded his thanks, not trusting his voice and Pitch left. Once he heard the door click shut he sunk to the bottom of the shower, his legs suddenly too weak to support his frame. His heart was beating at a medically dangerous speed and a smile began growing on his trembling lips.

* * *

><p>Pitch devoted his full attention to making sure he wasn't overcooking the chicken cordon bleus. He wasn't a particularly good chef but his freezer was stocked up with all manners of quick frozen dishes. All he had to do was cook the meat but he found even that simple task a burden. Every time his concentration wavered, even slightly, it went straight to the sight of Jack in the shower and he felt his sanity slipping. He's knocked at the door but when he received no answer he assumed Jack didn't hear him. He should have left the clothes outside the door but then he would have been deprived of that delicious sight.<p>

'Can I help with something?' Pitch turned to look at Jack standing in the doorway to the kitchen, the borrowed black shirt far too long for him. It reached all the way down his thighs and Pitch's eyes widened when he realized Jack wasn't wearing the provided trousers. The legs were completely bare and Pitch couldn't tear his eyes away from them. 'You're burning our dinner.' Pitch glanced up at Jack's grinning face and then he smelled the burned meat and quickly pulled the pan off the fire. Fortunately it wasn't inedible and crispy was just how Pitch liked it anyway...He hoped Jack felt the same way.

'You can help by getting two plates.' Pitch heard the soft steps as Jack went to the cupboards, opening each one in turn until he found the plates. He presented them to Pitch and the older man placed the meat, two for Jack and one for himself, on the white porcelain. Jack arched an eyebrow when he saw the extra piece but didn't say anything. 'I hope you like burned chicken.' Jack leaned against the counter, facing Pitch who leaned against the stove, after grabbing one of the ready forks. He chuckled softly at the comment.

'Burned dinner is better than no dinner. Besides, it doesn't look too bad to me.' Pitch agreed though his eyes were not looking at the food so much as at Jack. They ate in silence but there was nothing awkward about it. Pitch finished his meal first, predictable since he had a smaller portion, and reached for his forgotten glass of cognac. He sipped the amber liquid while Jack finished his meal, grateful for the time to get used to the idea of Jack Frost being in his kitchen wearing nothing more than one of his shirts. He feared he'd need more cognac...

'Just leave the plate on the counter. I'll clean them tomorrow.' Jack did as he was told, suddenly aware he was standing one step from Pitch and with no other distraction from the thought. He looked to the side, pretending to inspect the shelves on the far wall, his fingers automatically searching for his hoodie pockets but dangling by his side when they couldn't find them. 'I have a spare room upstairs. You can have it for the night.' Jack realized he hadn't actually asked Pitch if he could spend the night and was momentarily surprised at the offer.

'Why are you being so nice to me?' Jack studied Pitch's expression but he didn't find anything incriminating. The brunet looked back at him calmly, swallowing the last of his drink.

'Contrary to expectations, I'm not an evil man. I'm not going to throw a student out on the street when he's clearly in need of shelter. What sort of educator would that make me?' Jack felt the words strike him like a sharp slap across his face.

'So you're being nice to me only because I'm your student and you're my teacher?' Jack tried and failed to keep the disappointment from his voice. Pitch placed the glass in the sink beside him, adding another dish to wash in the morning.

'No. Not only because of that.' Jack watched Pitch as the other closed the distance between them and hooked a finger under his chin. 'Why are you really here Jack Frost?' Jack hadn't expected the question and he blinked in confusion. He tried to look away from the piercing gold gaze but Pitch held his chin firmly between his fingers.

'Be-Because I needed a place to stay...' Pitch narrowed his eyes and Jack remembered the way he'd looked at him before he'd _punished_ him in front of the whole class.

'You sound unsure. Remember Jack, I can't stand liars. You have one more chance. Why are you really here?' Jack felt his skin heat but he couldn't meet Pitch's dangerous eyes.

'I'm... I'm...' Pitch placed his free hand on the back of Jack's leg, just below the material of the oversize shirt. His fingers began moving up, excruciatingly slowly, bringing the shirt up with them. Jack closed his eyes when the fingers were on the back of his thigh, just below his rear.

'I'm still waiting Jack.' The younger man sighed when Pitch spoke his name in that low growl, just as the time before. Unconsciously he was leaning forward, eager to feel the other's lips on him, the hand on his ass groping the flesh meaningfully.

'I'm here because of you. Because I want you to take me again. Please...' Pitch grinned wickedly, satisfied with the answer, before leaning in and granting Jack's wish. Their lips met in a tender kiss before their tongue took over and it became a ferocious battle. Jack crossed his arms around Pitch's neck, drawing him in as close as possible. He felt himself being lifted and placed on the counter behind him. He opened his legs so Pitch could get closer to him, an invitation the other had no intention on passing. Jack groaned against the other lips when Pitch moved his hands up his back, climbing the ridges of his spine.

'You look good in black.' Jack smirked.

'Are you talking about what I'm wearing now or the jeans I had on before. You didn't think I missed the way you looked at my ass when I ran up the stairs did you?' Pitch laughed against Jack's neck, running his tongue along the exposed skin.

'I should have known better. Any chance I'll see you wearing those jeans again?' Pitch kissed along the curve of Jack's jaw and he trembled under the touch.

'I have to wear more than this when I leave tomorrow so probably yes.' Jack hadn't realized the jeans would be such a hit with the men in his life. First Tucker and now Pitch... He guessed he owed the creepy photographer a bigger thanks than he originally thought, not that he would ever let the guy know.

'If it were up to me you'd wear less than even this tomorrow.' Pitch moved his hands to the front of Jack's upper body, feeling the heaving chest below his fingertips. He could feel the beat of the young heart reverberating through the heated flesh.

'That might not be such a good idea, unless you're the sharing type.' Pitch bit on the skin between Jack's neck and shoulder, leaving the imprints of his incisors behind. The thought of someone else touching Jack, now that he willingly came to him, was unacceptable to him. Jack gasped at the unexpected sting but then relaxed when Pitch's tongue swiped over the mark, soothing the skin.

'I'm not but I do enjoy seeing others green with envy.' Jack managed a chuckle, his fingers fidgeting with Pitch's shirt buttons. He yearned to simply tear them apart but doubted Pitch would stand for that. With considerable difficulty he managed to pop the last one opened and Pitch let the material slide down his arms. Jack gaped at the sight. With a smart suit on, Pitch looked lean but his body was covered in wiry muscles and Jack didn't doubt their strength for an instant.

'I think you're the one who should wear fewer clothes in public.' Pitch straightened up so Jack could see him properly and grinned wickedly at the younger man's hungry stares.

'I have a reputation to keep. I doubt the other students will call me the Boogieman if I walk around half naked.' Jack doubted that would change anything since the others were more afraid of Pitch's sharp looks and quick temper than his clothes but decided to keep that to himself. He tugged at Pitch's arm, silently pleading for him to close the distance between them once more and was happy when the older man got the hint. Jack willingly opened his mouth to Pitch and let him do as he pleased, moaning softly when the skilful tongue wound around his and drew it into its owner's mouth.

As much as Jack loved foreplay he'd been pining for Pitch's touch for two entire days and he doubted he could go this slow the whole time. He needed to feel the other inside him again, filling him in a way nobody before him had. He scraped along Pitch's neck and shoulder blades with his blunt nails, conveying his impatience. He felt long fingers on his thighs a second later, opening them and pulling his frame down the counter so they could reach his entrance. Pitch planted a quick kiss on Jack's chin before he disentangled himself from the other's limbs. Jack held back his whine, watching Pitch search inside one of the drawers instead. He smirked when his hopes were confirmed and Pitch returned with a bottle of virgin olive oil in his hand. The irony wasn't lost to either of them.

'Am I to be the second dish of the night?' Pitch coated his fingers with the sleek substance, letting a generous amount run along them.

'You're the dessert.' Pitch joined their lips again, teeth biting Jack's lower lip playfully, to distract the other from what his hand was doing. Jack grasped Pitch's shoulder when he felt the fingers rub circles around the ring of muscle and he braced himself for the first finger. The oil made the process easy and painless and Jack moaned at the thin intruder, feeling it press against the fleshy walls in search for his prostate. Pitch's other hand settled on the small of Jack's back, providing some support since Jack was adamant not to lie down on the counter and break apart from the other body.

Pitch added the second finger and began stretching the walls apart in earnest, groaning at the tightness. He remembered how fantastic Jack felt around his cock before and it took inhumane willpower to prevent himself from driving inside the compliant body that very second. He added the final digit soon after, Jack accommodating to the extra girth with questionable ease. Pitch knew the boy was no virgin but he found himself wondering just how active his sex life was... Well, now that he had him in his grasp, Pitch was not going to let him go and he certainly wasn't going to share him. He thrust inside the boy without mercy, forcing Jack to break away from his lips so he could breathe, oxygen entering his lungs in shallow gasps.

'Pitch...Need you... Ready...' Sentence fragments were all Pitch could decipher between the myriad of other noises breaking free from Jack's larynx. He got the message though and he removed his fingers. He pushed his trousers down, just low enough for his member to spring free of the confinement, and added some oil to that too. He didn't want Jack in any unnecessary pain. His hands returned to Jack's thighs, looking over the sight of the other spread and eager for him. It was intoxicating and he felt rivers of sweat run down his burning flesh. He pushed inside the warm tunnel slowly, watching Jack's face for the smallest hint of discomfort.

Jack supported his weight on his elbows and let his head fall back as Pitch pushed inside him. His legs joined behind the teacher's waist once he was fully sheathed inside Jack's warmth. He looked at Pitch only to see his own reflection in the golden gaze, a dangerously close distance from him. Lips met in a frantic kiss, all teeth and tongues, before Pitch began moving his hips. Jack's arms reached for the other's neck and Pitch pulled him up with him, his hips driving forwards like a battering ram intent on bringing Jack's last defence down. Where the house had once been eerily silent it was now filled with loud cries for more and profanities so explicit they would redden the cheeks of the most sinful criminal.

Jack pulled at Pitch's hair, his gasping lips pressing to his exposed throat and the older man got back at the youth by curling his fingers around the forgotten member. Jack almost came right then and there. He wasn't far off and he managed a choked warning before Pitch felt the hot ribbons of Jack's seed coating his fist. He continued to move his hand until the last of the load was released and watched as Jack practically fell backwards. The only thing which stopped him from hitting the counter with full force was Pitch's hold of him and he lowered the spent boy down before pulling out of the other's heat. He was close himself and he looked at Jack, lost in his orgasm, while he stroked himself to completion. His shirt was bunched up to reveal his abdomen and the majority of his chest. Pitch realized the skin was too perfect and he decided to mark it next time.

'Pitch...' Jack was looking at him through half-lidded eyes and Pitch felt the ground shift below his feet. In the end it was his own name, spoken through the sated lips which pushed him over the edge. Jack moaned as the white substance landed on his stomach and abdomen and struggled to commit the sight of Pitch's coming face to memory. He doubted he ever saw anything more arousing in his whole life...

Once done, Pitch crumbled on the support of his arms, one on either side of Jack, panting heavily at the exertion. Jack nuzzled his hair, messing it even further, waiting patiently for Pitch to catch his breath and ride his high. Their lips met in a lazy dance of their tongues with no clear winner before Pitch reluctantly stood up. Jack followed, helped by the other.

'I'm afraid you'll have to take another shower.' Pitch's tone of voice wasn't fooling anyone... His intentions were clear to Jack and he smirked.

'Only if you join me. We can save time that way.' Pitch raised an eyebrow.

'You and I both know we'll be in there far longer if we go together. But since you're the guest I have to do my duty as a host and agree to your wishes.'

'I was hoping you'd say that.'

* * *

><p>'This is a big house.' Jack moved his head so he could look at Pitch. They were in his bed, both naked, both content after their shower. Pitch had been right... It did take much longer than if they'd gone in separately.<p>

'I guess.' Jack wasn't sure why Pitch was bringing this up now. He lived in an orphanage, in a room smaller than Pitch's bathroom and he shared it with Elsa. Anything bigger than that was impressive to Jack.

'You have a sister right?' Jack was curious now and he sat up to look down at Pitch, completely in the dark as to where the older man was going with this.

'Yes.'

'And you're both looking for a home?' Jack nodded, not daring to jump to the obvious conclusion. Surely Pitch wasn't implying what he dared not hope he was implying... 'Well, like I said...This is a big house. You could both live here.' Jack's eyes widened in a comical fashion and Pitch couldn't help smiling.

'Do you- Do you understand what you're saying? Maybe you were under the hot water for too long...' Jack had been taught by life to be sceptical and he couldn't readily accept such luck would favour him. It would be too much of a dream come true.

'I assure you, I'm perfectly sound of mind. This house has more space than one man would ever need and it gets lonely sometimes. I'd appreciate the company.' Jack stared at Pitch like he was a saint and the other laughed at the idea. Him a saint?! One might as well call the grass blue! His motives were as selfish as could be. He wanted to have Jack beside him, to keep him for himself. He didn't want to have to wait until the weekends for the youth to show up at his doorstep. He wanted to have the opportunity to hold him whenever he felt like it and that was impossible if Jack continued to live in an orphanage on the other side of town.

'If you're sure... You'd have to adopt us, at least for another four months until I'm officially an adult.' Pitch hadn't thought about that but it didn't seem like enough to stop him. He shrugged.

'That's doable.' Jack gawked at him for a while longer, his mouth open but no words leaving his lips. Suddenly he fell on top of Pitch and hugged him tight. At first the older man didn't know what to do and froze, waiting for Jack to be done, but when he understood the youth had no intention of letting go he returned the gesture. It felt strange to him, not because he didn't want to wrap his arms around Jack, but because he could count the hugs he'd shared in his life on one hand. His family hadn't been...the warmest of people and he'd had very few friends which deserved such a show of affection.

'I don't know what to say...' Jack hugged Pitch tighter, pressing his ear to the man's heart. He felt Pitch run his fingers up his back and through his hair. The gesture was meant to be friendly but the slight addition of nails to the act made Jack shiver.

'I'm sure you can think of something. You're a resourceful guy.' Jack pressed a long kiss to Pitch's chest. His teeth scraping the skin just hard enough to draw out a soft moan.

'I think I have an idea.' Jack kissed up Pitch's chest until his lips were hovering above the older man's. 'A very bad idea.' Pitch grinned mischievously and pulled Jack to him, feeling a hand press against his stolen heart.

* * *

><p><strong>Well you've survived! CONGRATULATIONS! XD I hope you liked the sequel (i really do hope you listened to me and read Bad Influence first... or at least I hope the story made sense if you did not) Please let me know your thoughts through a much appreciated review! XD<strong>

**HAVE A NICE DAY! **


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